The Zeppelin's Passenger eBook

As they pulled him on to the beach, he had but one
idea. Whatever happened, he must not lose consciousness.
The packet was still there against the calf of his
leg. It must be his own hands which removed
his clothes. It seemed to him that those few
bronzed faces, those half a dozen rude lanterns, had
become magnified and multiplied a hundredfold.
It was an army of blue-jerseyed fishermen which patted
him on the back and welcomed him, lanterns like the
stars flashing everywhere around. He set his
teeth and fought against the buzzing in his ears.
He tried to speak, and his voice sounded like a weak,
far away whisper.

“I am all right,” he kept on saying.

Then he felt himself leaning on two brawny arms.
His feet followed the mesmeric influence of their
movement. Was he going into the clouds, he wondered?
They stopped to open a gate, the gate leading to
the gardens of Mainsail Haul. How did he get
there? He had no idea. More movements
of his feet, and then unexpected warmth. He
looked around him. There were voices. He
listened. The one voice? The one face bending
over his, her eyes wet with tears, her whispers an
incoherent stream of broken words. Then the warmth
seemed to come back to his veins. He sat up
and found himself on the couch in the library, the
rain dripping from him in little pools, and he knew
that he had succeeded. He had not fainted.

“I am all right,” he repeated. “What
a mess I am making!”

The voices around him were still a little tangled,
but the hand which held a steaming tumbler to his
lips was Philippa’s.

“Drink it all,” she begged.

He felt the tears come into his eyes, felt the warm
blood streaming through his body, felt a little wet
patch at the back of the calf of his leg, and the
hand which set down the empty tumbler was almost steady.

“There’s a hot bath ready,” Philippa
told him; “some dry clothes, and a bedroom with
a fire in. Do let Mills show you the way.”

He rose at once, prepared to follow her. His
feet were not quite so steady as he would have wished,
but he made a very presentable show. Mills,
with a little apology, held out his arm. Philippa
walked by his other side.

“As soon as you have finished your bath and
got into some dry clothes,” Philippa whispered,
“please ring, or send Mills to let us know.”

He was even able to smile at her.

“I am quite all right,” he assured her
once more.

CHAPTER XXV

Philippa, unusually early on the following morning,
glanced at the empty breakfast table with a little
air of disappointment, and rang the bell.

“Mills,” she enquired, “is no one
down?”

“Sir Henry is, I believe, on the beach, your
ladyship,” the man answered, “and Miss
Helen and Miss Nora are with him.”

“And Mr. Lessingham?”

“Mr. Lessingham, your ladyship,” Mills
continued, looking carefully behind him as though
to be sure that the door was closed, “has disappeared.”